Rescue Me
by SassyJ
Summary: One shot fic about the strength of friendship


Stuart Turner moaned, he was in agony. He wished he had listened to Jo and then he wouldn't be in this mess. Well, he hadn't and getting himself out of it might be more than he could manage.

He was lying in a heap on a cold, wet, slimy concrete floor, his hands were tied behind his back, and they'd tied his ankles too, at first he'd struggled to free his hands, only to discover that no amount of twisting or wriggling would enable him to reach the knots in the ropes that bound them, and struggling and twisting caused the ropes to tighten. The bastards had really known what they were doing.

Then he'd tried to reason with them, he was a police officer, this was kidnapping and they would be in serious trouble. At that point one of the goons had grabbed a handful of Stuart's short black hair and yanked his head back, Stuart had gasped with pain. The hand that had shoved a handkerchief in his mouth had tasted of oil and chemicals and Stuart had gagged and tried to spit the handkerchief out, a large knot of cloth had been forced into his mouth preventing him from doing so, before the cotton scarf had been knotted tightly behind his head. Almost passing out from the suffocating cloth hampering his breathing, Stuart had subsided on the floor in a mostly inanimate heap.

When the gang had found that their haul was mostly useless, they'd taken it out on his helpless frame. The boots that had been driven into his ribs had done major damage, when he could drag himself back from the pain that was occupying almost every thought he had, he knew he had at least two broken ribs, when he'd been thrown out of the van onto the floor of the abandoned warehouse, there had been a heavy crunch as he'd landed awkwardly on his back, he knew his left wrist was probably broken.

He lay half on his side, half on his front, and tried to control his movements, the heavy, dirty cloth still hampering his breathing badly, the knot forcing his jaws open, the neuralgia pain lancing down the side of his face. Pain from every part of his body was unrelenting, particularly the sharp stabbing pains in his side at every breath. His throat was on fire, his wrist ached until he moved, then white hot pokers seared up his left arm.

He screwed his eyes closed, tears streaking the dirt on his face, he was in so much pain. _Jo, please god find me._

* * *

Jo Masters was almost beside herself with worry. Why she had let him go off at half cock, she had no idea, and now DS Stuart Turner was missing. His warrant card, and his handcuffs had been found on the floor of the now abandoned property they'd been staking out. So ten to one, the goon squad had Stuart. And since they were a violent bunch, evens that they'd already hurt him.

Jo's blood ran cold. Stuart was brave and sometimes foolish, _please god let him control the urge to try and talk them down, because they'll hurt him._ She turned his warrant card over in her hands, Stu's slightly smug smile stared back at her from his ID picture, _his official smile, the one he showed the world_, so very different from the Stu Turner that she had grown to know and love, and trust as one of her best friends. Something that they kept to themselves, best mates, he was like the annoying little brother that knew everything about her, and still loved her.

When the call came in, Jo was out of the door like a scalded cat, Stevie sprinting to catch up.

"I'll drive," she threw herself into the driver's seat before a stressed Jo could argue.

"Just get us there, Stevie." Jo's voice shook. She didn't care that she was betraying how she felt about her friend, because Stu was her friend, but it went deeper than that.

The van used in the robbery had been found abandoned at some old warehouses, uniform were starting to arrive and spread out, looking for Stuart. There was a chance, and Jo wasn't going to leave a stone unturned.

The warehouses were little more than shells, dark, cold and abandoned. The thought that Stuart might be hurt and alone in one of these desolate places turned Jo's heart over. Cautiously she picked her way through the freezing cold, dark, abandoned interior. Stevie by her side. The icy wind howled around the miserable place, and Jo shivered. She peered into the gloom, flashlight in hand, sweeping it round, pausing when she realised that there was a bundle of something on the floor.

Then she was running, falling to her knees. _Oh god..._ Gently she freed the knot on the gag and pulled the suffocating cloth out of his mouth, together with the dirty handkerchief. "Stu... can you hear me." Black lashes lifted a fraction, and his lips moved, but no sound came out. She stroked his hair, "Stu try not to move, we'll get you out of here."

"SOMEBODY GET ME SOME WATER, AND AN AMBULANCE!" she yelled.

"Stu, just try to stay awake for me.." she reached over to try and unpick the knots that bound his wrists, struggling to untie him. A couple of broken nails and she succeeded, he whimpered as she gently straightened out his wrist. Jo felt sick, he was in a lot of pain. Stevie took her jacket off and folded it up, carefully they got him to ease onto his back, and Stevie put the jacket behind his head to use as a pillow, he clung to Jo with his good right hand, as they managed to get him to drink a little of the water that had been produced from somewhere. Mercifully someone had rustled up a couple of blankets, because he was shivering with cold.

Stevie watched Jo bending over Stuart, talking to him about everything and nothing, holding his uninjured hand tightly in hers, and gently stroking his head with her free hand, he was looking up at her with a rapt look on his face, his whole attention on her, as though she was the thread which held him to consciousness. The look in Jo's eyes took Stevie's breath away, a world of love in her gaze, as she talked to Stu.

Stevie tried to work it out, it wasn't a matter of romance, but these two clearly felt something very deep and personal between them, and their closeness touched Stevie's heart, she felt very privileged to be let in on their private feelings.

* * *

"God, you are so stubborn." Jo put her hands on her hips. "I suppose short of knocking you cold and chaining you to the bed, there isn't any other way to keep you here, is there?"

"No." Stu swung his legs cautiously over the edge of the bed, and very carefully slid to the floor. "So stop nagging me, and help me get dressed."

"Would serve you right if I made you walk out to the car in that." Jo flicked the unbecoming hospital gown with her hand, and Stuart scowled. His plastered left wrist resting in his lap, he reached round and tried to tug the gown undone.

"Some help, please." He panted, his seriously bruised, cracked ribs protesting at his twisting movement.

Jo sighed. He hated hospitals, and hated a fuss, and she knew why he felt like that, and could scarcely blame him. So she was prepared to help, providing the doctors had decided it was alright. The doctor had pronounced him fit to leave, and Stuart was going whether she would help or not. So Jo was helping.

She had been to his spartan flat, rummaged around and found his wash kit and shaving stuff, found some comfortable clothes for him to lounge about in, and raced around getting extra food in. He wasn't going to be given an option, he was coming home with her.

So now she helped him ease himself into a pair of baggy cargo pants that she'd found, and slip into a navy jumper and a pair of trainers, and helped him limp stiffly to the exit.

* * *

Stevie paused before knocking. She knew Stuart was with Jo, and she didn't want to disturb them, but she also wanted to be sure that he was alright. He'd looked really bad when they loaded him into the ambulance, but not before he'd given Jack Meadows very full descriptions, names, and a number of other things that they had not known before. The DCI had been torn between pleasure that Stuart had managed to get so much information, annoyance that he'd gone off half cocked and got himself into so much trouble, and worry about Stuart's injuries.

Stevie knocked. A moment, and she could hear feet coming to the door.

Jo opened it.

Stevie held out the bag of fruit that she'd bought. "I just wanted to drop this off. Is he alright?" It came out a bit breathless, and Jo looked at her a bit cockeyed.

"Come in and see for yourself." Jo smiled.

Stevie hesitated.

"He doesn't bite, well not much..."

Stevie shrugged and followed Jo back into her flat. Stuart was sprawled, half asleep on Jo's sofa.

Jo headed for the kitchen, and poured Stevie a drink. Stevie settled down on the armchair next to the sofa, and Jo took up her former position, and Stuart cuddled up against her, resting his head on her thigh. Jo's hand absently stroked his shoulder.

Stevie looked at him, he looked a mess, his left wrist in plaster, the hem of his jumper had ridden up with his moving around, and she could see some nasty dark bruises on his left side, and the bottom edge of the strapping round his cracked ribs. His eyes were closed, and Stevie wasn't certain if he'd gone to sleep or not.

"Is he alright?" she asked Jo quietly.

"He's been very lucky," Jo replied, her hand still stroking his shoulder, "bruises, a fractured wrist, and a couple of cracked ribs. He's gonna be fine."

"I'm not deaf y'know." Stuart muttered, without opening his eyes. "And if this is what _lucky_ feels like, I never want to experience unlucky."

* * *

_**Five Months Later**_

Stevie watched nervously as he paced back and forth, it was like being in a cage with a tiger. A very angry tiger. All coiled and ready to spring. To tear someone limb from limb. She was relieved that all this pent up rage was not being directed at her.

Jo was missing, she'd been gone for more than eight hours, and Stuart was an inch away from losing it. It was all down to Barton Street of course, they had a couple of corrupt officers in their midst. And Jo, being Jo, had figured it out. Now it appeared that there were more than two rotten apples in the barrel. She had been snatched.

Neil and Sam were interviewing right now. It was supposedly Stevie's job to keep Stuart from throttling either of their suspects with his bare hands. Quite how she was supposed to do that when he was nearly a foot taller than her and outweighed her by several stone, she wasn't exactly certain. And he was very, very angry. Stevie Moss, for all her front, was equally certain that he was beside himself with grief and worry over Jo. So was she.

Her fanciful soul could almost see the tail lashing, when Neil emerged from the interview room and silently shook his head, Stuart sprang. Before Neil or Sam could stop him, he had the corrupt sergeant up against the wall, steel strong fingers gripping the man's throat.

"Where is she?" by contrast to the pent up rage he was radiating, his voice held a deathly calm.

Sergeant Philip Mason made a noise which sounded very much like a snicker of laughter. Stuart leaned in, and there was a sudden yelp and then he let go.

Mason clutched his finger and howled. "You broke my finger." Sam looked ready to protest and intervene, but Neil looked at her, she subsided. She wanted Jo back as badly as everyone did,

"Two hundred and fifty eight bones in the human body, that's one." Stuart's expression said it all. Mason took in the feral look of utter hatred in the dark eyes and gave up. He spilled his guts. Stuart was out of the door before he'd finished speaking. Stevie had to sprint to keep up.

* * *

She was dangling from a hook hammered into a post, they'd stripped her naked, she was bruised and cold and frightened, her wrists scraped and bleeding from her weight dragging on the cuffs. She couldn't reach up any further and unhook herself. Tears ran down her face and she prayed that he would find her, that he was as smart as she was hoping he was, because all she wanted now was to feel safe, and warm and cherished. _Stu, rescue me!_

A pair of strong arms closed round her, and lifted her up, freeing her hands from the hook, barely there, she sagged against him, he unlocked the cuffs, and put his jacket on her, then lifted her in his arms and carried her away from the post. She burrowed against him, winding her stiffened, sore arms around his neck, shivering with cold, fear and reaction.

He carried her back to the car, placing her in the backseat and climbing in beside her. A blanket appeared out of nowhere and he wrapped her in it, lifting her in his arms again. Jo burrowed against him and he held her as though he was never going to let her go again.

Stevie got into the driver's seat, she had to move it forward a long way to reach, but she started Stuart's car up and drove back the way they had come. She glanced in the rear view mirror, Stu was bent over Jo, cuddling her, stroking her hair, talking to her in a hushed voice, as Jo sobbed into his shirtfront. Once again it was as though they had shut the world out.

Even when they got to St Hugh's, Stuart stayed with her, refusing to leave even when she was examined. Jo clung to his hand as though it were her lifeline to the world.

* * *

Stevie put the various bags she was carrying down on the floor, and let herself into Jo's flat with the spare key that Stuart had given her. She'd been to his place, gathered up some clothes and his washkit, been shopping for extra food, and come back to Jo's place.

She could hear the sound of a masculine voice coming from the sitting room, but she dumped Stuart's bag on the floor just inside the spare bedroom, before wrestling the shopping into the kitchen, and walking through into the lounge.

A similar scene to the one five months ago greeted her. Only Stuart was sat back on the couch, leaning against the arm, his legs stretched across it, Jo lying in his arms, wrapped firmly in a duvet, she was leaning against him and he dropped a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

"this isn't me, I don't do this." Jo was saying in a quivery voice, as fresh tears washed down her face. Stu made shushing noises, and hugged her fiercely to him. Images of the tiger protecting his mate rose unbidden in Stevie's over fertile brain. She shook her head slightly to clear the image and cleared her throat. Stuart looked up, and Stevie caught her breath slightly at the look on his face. His normal cocky, slightly smug and arrogant expression gone, she knew the look of love in his eyes was reserved for Jo alone, but it still came a quite a jolt to her. Still a surprise that cocky smoothie Stuart and gay tomboy Jo were so close.

Stevie sighed, they were back in a world of their own again. "I'll put the kettle on."


End file.
